


what once was, what shall be

by wickedbad



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Kiss, Introspection, M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), References to Norse Religion & Lore, very thin timeline we are working with here LOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29651436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedbad/pseuds/wickedbad
Summary: "They were standing rather close, Thor noticed after a moment, and it was impossible to tell how long they had been that way. Perhaps he was exhausted, or it was a trick of the light, but there was something else in Bruce’s eye besides relief that lured him in even closer — that left him wanting more, something to fill that newfound emptiness that swelled inside him that he was still learning to live with."
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Thor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	what once was, what shall be

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! thank you for checking out my fic, this is my first mcu fic so i'm a little nervous ^^ (p.s. i know mcu odin didn't lose his eye the same way as in actual norse mythology but i liked that version a lot more lol)

In the ancient days of Midgard, skalds had once composed great poems concerning the fates of gods and mortals — tales that had long since been weaved by the Nornir. They foretold the chaos and ruin, the darkness and the broken stars in the space where Asgard had once been. They believed that once their destinies had been intwined into the tapestry of fate, there was nothing that could have been done to change such a will — that Ragnarok would come, and there were none who could stop that.

And Thor knew he had been foolish to think otherwise, that he could fight against the cruel hand of fate. He thought of his premature victory of Muspelheim, in the lair of Surtur, where he ended up being just as foolish as he had always been. He had lost much since then, but had learned new truths, such as that the people he loved meant more than any golden palace, more than any realm.

But still, there was a hole in his chest that swelled despite his best efforts to conceal it before his people; they were tired, scared, and displaced. He had managed to stay put together while he made the rounds, doing his best to calm any fears and reassure that everything was going to be alright in the end.

When all had settled, he had found himself in one of the rooms of the spaceship, somewhere far away so that he could finally _think_ — to process all that he had lived through in what felt like only a handful of days. And now he stood alone in the darkness of the room, standing by the large window that faced the depths of space, where stars littered the obsidian expanse that stretched out before him. There was no way to know how long he stood there lost in thought and memory, until he heard gentle footsteps somewhere from behind him.

“Thor,” His name was called from the threshold of the room — too loud and too quiet, all at once. The temperature had since turned to ice, like bitter winds swirling about him, but there was a newfound warmth that slipped in — a little thing that promised it would turn out alright, despite all which had been lost.

Bruce stood in the doorway, light pouring in behind him as he looked into the darkness of the room. His face was obscured in the dark, but Thor knew it well, and he could imagine the crease in Bruce’s brow while he fumbled over his words, trying to find something to say that wasn’t awkward. Bruce, like most humans, had not been blessed with the grace of the gods, but Thor had come to prefer it that way — to have something mortal that didn’t remind him of home.

Home.

He carried lifetimes inside of him — stories that were weaved into the lacings where skin met bone. There had once been golden corridors he ran through as a child, roaring with laughter and stomping his feet with the might of giants. There had once been his mother poised atop the balcony, looking across her kingdom with golden hair tousled by the wind. And there had been many years he had taken for granted, young and naïve, believing that such a day would come that he could fight against the threads of fate. It was simpler then, though it always seemed that way while looking backward.

“Thor,” His name was called again, softer this time, as if Bruce had been afraid to speak too loudly so not to startle him. “Hey,” He said to Thor’s silhouette that still lingered before the window, and he took a rather daring step into the room. Thor made no effort to turn around, content to glance into the depths of space where there were too many stars, and he felt rather small.

He had never been used to feeling small, but that was one of the many things he had always known yet refused to listen to: that there were many forces at work in the universe, and he was but one of them.

“If you don’t want me to bother you, I can come back later,” Bruce said, shaking his head at the awkwardness of it all, “If you wanna be alone, I mean.”

“No,” Thor said, too hurriedly; the last thing he wanted was to be alone, despite every part of him that fought against that want, urging him to hide. There was something that nagged at him, wishing to protect him from losing everything else that he had, but protecting those few things left was worth every ounce of fight he had left in him. “Come on in, turn on the light.”

Bruce obliged, turning on the light and flooding the room with a brightness that was a bit harsh on the eyes. Thor turned to face him, then, and Bruce had forgotten about the eye patch; it suited him well enough that he may as well have been wearing it from the first day that they met, all those years ago.

Thor chuckled, “I look like my father,” He started, a lump in his throat that he just barely managed to swallow down; then, he turned to look out the window again — searching for _something_ or _anything_ in the vastness of space. “A long time ago he traveled through Jotunheim, searching for a well of wisdom, and he sacrificed his eye for a single drink. And here I am now, I just sacrificed my home… It’s a funny thing that you can fight hard against something yet end up just the same.”

He turned back to Bruce with a somber look in his eye, his mind pulled back from memories that were just stories he had heard long ago, “But you don’t want to hear about that, I’m sure.”

Bruce shrugged, “I don’t mind; whatever you wanna say, I’m listening.”

Thor forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “You are a good friend, Banner. You have done much for me, and I don't think that I could repay you,” He stopped, gesturing toward the corridor behind them, “ _They_ are more thankful for you than you could ever know.”

“It was Hulk, you know that,” Bruce scratched at the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes; he had a habit of feeling small sometimes, too.

“It was both of you,” Thor smiled, and he meant it that time, because in truth he was grateful to have another Avenger along with him. For the longest time, he had been content with solving problems on his own — against the advice of everyone else — while causing more problems along the way, but he had grown quite a lot in just a few years’ time. Now, he was floating through space with hundreds of displaced Asgardians and no clear path ahead of them, and they were going to figure it out together. He wasn’t alone this time, and Bruce was standing close beside him with a smile that said _We did it, we lived_.

They were standing rather close, Thor noticed after a moment, and it was impossible to tell how long they had been that way. Perhaps he was exhausted, or it was a trick of the light, but there was something else in Bruce’s eye besides relief that lured him in even closer — that left him wanting more, something to fill that newfound emptiness that swelled inside him that he was still learning to live with.

The following moments were a bit impulsive, but they were still very much alive which had to count for something — that they had fought against an impossible evil and seen the other side, together. Perhaps that had awoken feelings neither of them knew existed (or, maybe, they had), but there had been no hesitation between them as Thor reached down to cradle Bruce’s face in his hands. He couldn’t remember telling himself to do it, his body acting with a mind of its own, but he kissed Bruce as if surrendering to the maxim that there was never a promise of tomorrow.

Bruce grabbed at his wrists, holding him in place there, grounding him so that the moment would last a while longer before they had to return to a world where they had no idea what trouble would find them next. It had been a long, unforgiving two years for him, and the warmth from Thor’s touch melted it away, at least for the moment. It had been a bit of a shock at first, yet comfortably expected all the same, as if he had been thinking about this for a while but never thought it would come to fruition.

Thor pulled away, then, a strange look of desperation in his eye and a plea upon his lips, “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not,” Bruce said, and he could see the loss in Thor’s eye, the tired ache that seeped into his bones — a man who had already lost so much and was terrified to lose more.

“Good,” Thor smiled, then kissed him again as if on impulse, taking the time to commit it to memory, just in case. Bruce must have noticed that nervousness, because he held onto Thor’s arms as if to say _You won’t lose me, too_.

Thor wasn’t sure he could handle losing anything else.

A beat of silence passed. A lifetime of fighting against countless foes, yet none of them had felt quite like this: complete and empty, all the same. Somehow, after all that had happened, he ended up here, and in the moment the outcome didn’t seem _quite_ so bad — not when Bruce looked at him with a half-smile that he couldn’t help but return.

“There’s a lot of people out there counting on you,” Bruce said, breaking the silence, bringing them back to the reality that awaited them.

“I know,” Thor smiled, and his chest felt less heavy for the first time in days, “But I’ve got a good team to help me out.”

“Yeah,” Bruce chuckled, “I guess we do all work well together. Even Loki.”

Thor laughed, “Even Loki,” He turned to face the doorway, knowing that there were hundreds of people out there who needed him — all of them. Then, he offered Bruce a soft smile, “I don’t know what fate awaits us, Banner, but I know that I am grateful to face it with you by my side.”

“Yeah, me too,” Bruce said, then turned to face the doorway with Thor standing tall beside him, beaming like the god he had always known him to be. “Let’s get out there and see what we can do.”

“I’d like that,” Thor said, then followed behind Bruce as they exited the room, ready to face whatever fate had planned for them. And as their spaceship continued to float through the vastness of space, swallowed by clusters of stars around them, Thor couldn’t help but feel that as long as he had those that he loved beside him, he could face any foe that stood in his way. It was his destiny, he knew, as had been weaved long ago in the days of old.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading my fic, and i hope that you liked it!! thor is one of my fave characters of all time so i really wanted to explore his feelings a bit while weaving in some tiny aspects of norse mythology so i hope that went over well!! <3


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